


When Mother Comes to Visit And Other Relevant Stories

by Axismundix



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:43:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axismundix/pseuds/Axismundix
Summary: Started out as a one-shot, but felt inspired. So, I am turning it into a series of vignettes, as they come to me.





	1. When Mother Comes to Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herah Adaar lives an interesting life. She is the Inquisitor. She has her love, Sera, by her side. And she had Battled the Magister-turned-Darkspawn, Corypheus. But now she faces her greatest threat. A visit from her mother.

Doderik was a guard. His father, Andraste keep him, had been a guard. His older brother was a guard. His older sister was a guard. Doderik, finally, in his sixteen year, was a guard.

 

And not just any guard! He was a guard at Skyhold! The center of the new rising power that was the Inquisition!

 

Granted, he had gotten the job because his older brother was a guard here. As was his older sister. And, granted, they were the guard captain and sergeant, respectively, in charge of protecting the war room, while he was a simply gate guard…. Still...Doderik was a guard!

 

Andraste's mercy, being a guard was boring. And it was not even midday. 

 

As the cart carrying turnips trundled past, Doderik was marking off some of the items from his checklist of expected deliveries as he stood next to the small two person hut that was to help protect the gate guards from the weather. Not that it was necessary today. 

 

The spring sun shone brightly over the ancient, yet solid fortress that was the Inquisition’s seat of power in Thedas. Early flowers bloomed along the stone cobbled road that lead up to the keep as travelers, and pilgrims, merchants and mercenaries, traveled through the winding paths up the mountains that made up the Frostbacks.

 

“Next!” Doderik called even as he let out a small sigh. 

 

“Long day?” A deep feminine, voice asked. The accent was thick, but not such that it was difficult to understand. 

 

“Yeah,” Doderik answered with a sigh. “Not a whole lot of….” As he looked up from his paperwork Doderik felt his voice failed him.

 

In front of him stood a massive pair of breasts. They were a light grey and clad in what appeared to be a thick, dark green tunic that had a deep v-neck, showing off a more than generous amount of cleavage that was cross by a leather bandoleer, holding three daggers, clearly balanced for throwing.

 

Below the breasts was a thick waist, not in a way that ran to fat, but a solid trunk necessary for holding up breasts of that size. Around the waist was a wide leather belt covered in a multitude of small pouches. On the left side of the belt hung a short sword. Or rather, it would be a short sword for the owner of the breasts. To Doderik, it would almost be the size of his own longsword.

 

“Want a painting?” The owner asked, her voice seemingly amused, snapping Doderik from his fascinated examination.

 

“Uh...Wha?” Doderik asked eloquently as he looked up sharply at the woman’s face and gasping in surprise, taking half a step back involuntarily. 

 

The woman was quanari, massive yet statuesque. She was easily one and a half of him wide and well over six feet tall, maybe even seven. Doderik, being five and half in his boots, tended to loose judgment after a point.

 

Either Way, she took the place as second largest person he had ever seen. Bigger even that the Inquisitor, and, though not as massive, probably as tall as the Iron Bull.

 

“If you are done staring, may I pass?” the woman rumbled. “I have business to conduct.”

 

“Umm...yes?” Doderik spoke, continuing his poetic prose.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

“Andraste….kill me…” the Inquisitor moaned. Slowly, she stretched out her cramped legs. At least as far as she could. Between the small pile of wine bottles, ale mugs and what seemed to be a stuffed duck, the floor of Sera’s little room was fairly cramped for a qunari.

 

“Me first,” Came a clearly, slurred voice came from behind her, bring a smile to her face. Sera always did.

 

“She would have to go through me, love,” Inquisitor Herah Adaar said as she leaned her head back against the cushioned bench that ran along the curved window that Sera was laying on.

 

“Ha!” Sera laughed and leaned over her lover’s head and giving Herah an upside down kiss. “Even she would have to be a bit daft to try that, yeah?”

 

Reaching up, Herah ran one of her hands through Sera’s hair, smirking at how large it was compared to her elven lover. “Why don’t we do this in my chambers anyway?” Herah groaned as she moved to stand.

 

“Easy,” Sera shrugged as she sat up fully and rubbed her head, her face twisting at the headache the pair’s revelry from the previous night had left her. “We’re closer to the alcohol here. ‘Sides, I don’t think we could get up all the stairs you got. Probably fall out a window or sumthin’.”

 

Pausing for a moment, Herah turned back with a smirk as she leaned against the doorframe. It was a fifty, fifty chance that is was to hold herself up or just a casual lean. “You make very good points. But I need to go to my chambers and change. I have more reports to over today, want to come?”

 

“Piss on that,” Sera snorted, then winced. “I don't know how you deal with all that rubbish. Innit that why you have her Ambasidorialness?”

 

Chuckling, Herah turned and started for the stairs, her hips swinging seductively. “Pity,” she sighed dramatically. “And I was thinking of taking my time...changing….”

 

Sera, for her part, sat staring at Herah’s retreating backside before licking her lips. “Yeah...maybe I could help you out a bit there….”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

Pele ignored the looks of the people that scurried from her path. She was used to it. Being qunari in lands full of humans and elves it happened rather often. Same as the pair of guards that followed her at a fair distance. Usually the guards that followed her stayed much closer, trying to be more intimidating.

 

Maybe it was the influence of the Inquisitor.

 

Not that Pele particularly cared. She went where she wanted. Did what she wanted. Her time at following the wills of others had passed a long time ago.

 

Why had she thought about that? With a frown, Pele looked around the courtyard of the castle she had found herself walking through. Ignoring the squeak and frantic scuttling of the woman in the Orleasian dress and mask.

 

The fortress was impressive. It was perched on a bluff that would not allow for any attacking for to surround it. Any assault woul dhave to come from the front, if it was to take the fortress at all. And if a force intended that, it would be seen for miles before they would be able to reach the front keep. Itself a small and nearly impregnable bastion. After that, pulling up the simple drawbridge would give them a rather difficult time.

 

The troops here seemed to be decent as well. Pele, having been a mercenary for more years than she cared to think about, had a decent eye for soldiers. And these were some of the best she had seen. A small group occupied a small training ring, being led by a tall woman, for a human. The woman was exceptionally talented, Pele noted. And wearing the armor of a Chantry Seeker….

 

Then, Pele saw her target.

 

\--------------------------------

 

“HERAH!” a  _ very _ familiar voice echoed through the courtyard, freezing Herah in place, instinctily.

 

“No way….” Herah muttered. It was  _ impossible _ ! It  _ had _ to be! Otherwise….

 

“Inky…” Sera murmured, tugging at Herah’s sleeve. “Inky, you might want to turn around….”

 

“I..I don’t want to…” Herah shook her head quickly, her eyes the size of saucers. “I’m afraid….”

 

“Inky?” Sera’s voice now held concern. “Should we go then, maybe?”

 

“HERAH!” the voice came again, but now it sounded even louder in the silence that the first call created. 

 

As boot steps  announced the voice's owner, Herah felt Sera stiffen a half second before her head was violently jerked around by an incredibly strong hand gripping one of her curved horns. “Don’t you ignore  _ me _ , Herah!” the qunari woman who owned the voice snarled, her face inches from her own.

 

“Hey!” Sera yelled from beside her. “You get your hands off my honey before I cut you bleedin hand off.”

 

Herah could picture the look of anger on her lover’s face, and such an image would normally bring a smile to her face. Except for the scowl of the woman looking at her, completely ignoring the small elf girl.

 

“Answer me girl!” the woman growled between clenched teeth. 

 

For not the first time in her life, Herah was impressed with how clearly this woman was able to speak without seeming to move her jaw. Sadly, she knew where the woman learned that skill…

 

“You didn’t ask a question, Mama!” Herah squealed as she tugged her head back, pulling against the grip on her horn. “You’re gonna rip it out!”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Sera had been stunned for a moment when the extremely large qunari woman had yelled across the courtyard, silencing everything. She was pretty sure Leiliana’s even crows froze in place.

 

Worryingly, Herah herself seemed to be frozen in place, and even refused to look, even when Sera tried getting her to  leave before the qunari got to them. She even seemed to tremble slightly under Sera’s hand. Something Sera had never felt. Well….not out of fear anyway….   
  


The qunari woman that stalked her way towards them was big. Bigger even than Herah was. Taller too. She was dressed like a mercenary, clothes dirty from the road, weapons that clearly been held by a hand that knew how to properly maintain them. Even the typical large pack that every traveler seemed to have.

 

However, that part that made Sera almost take a step back, other than the deep and rather terrifying expression of anger, were the scars over the woman’s face. 

 

Lining around the woman’s lips, were healed over piercing holes, and accompanying lines, as if her mouth had been sewn shut. Around her eyes and temples were the scars from something heavy digging into her face for an extended period of time.

 

But the thing that stood out the most were the woman’s horns. Like nearly all quanari the woman had horns erupting from her head, above her temples. The woman’s looked as though they would be impressive, two larger horns, noticeably larger than those Herah had, and then, under the, smaller ones peaked through the woman’s close cropped white hair. 

 

Impressive if they hadn’t been shorne through somewhere around six inches from the woman’s scalp.

 

Then the woman’s hand flashed out in a blur, even to someone with the eye for that kind of thing, like Sera, and latched onto one of Hera’s horns, jerking Herah’s head around and stepping close into her face.

 

“Don’t you ignore  _ me _ !” the woman snarled, her face like that of an angry god.

 

But she was manhandling  _ Sera’s _ woman.

 

“Hey!” Sera, her hand pulling a long dagger from the back of Herah’s belt. “You get your hands off my honey before I cut you bleedin hand off.”

 

The qunari woman almost looked like she was going to ignore Sera until the elf girl began to take a step forward. Then with speed that belied her size, the woman pulled Hera around, placing her between herself and Sera.

 

“Answer me girl!” the woman growled, her jaws clenched so tight that Sera could see veins popping out on her head, below the horns.

 

“Oh, fuck this!” Sera Moved to step around Herah again when her lover’s next words made her freeze, dumbfounded.

 

“You didn’t ask a question, Mama!” Hera squealed. And she did squeal. Sera knew what Hera’s squeals sounded like. “You’re gonna rip it out!”

 

\---------------------------------------

Pele was impressed with the small elf girl’s bravery. Not many people, at least not those that weren’t intoxicated, were brave enough to pull a dagger on her. The girl was also clever. She may not have been armed herself, but her hand flashed to Herah’s dagger almost faster than she could see.

 

And the girl seemed to have an attachment to her daughter.

 

“You didn’t ask a question Mama!” Herah squealed. Pele had heard her make that same noise every time she had done something stupid that Pele had to correct. “You’re gonna rip it out!”

 

With a snort of disdain, Pele released her daughter’s horn, giving it a small shove and forcing Herah back a step. 

 

“I hate what you did to your lovely horns,” Pele sighed. “Always did. Seriously, brass sheathing? That gaudy pattern? Seriously?”

 

“It’s gold, Mama,” Herah whined. No matter how old she seemed to get, her voice always retreated to that childish tone tone when she was in trouble.

 

“Is that what the Carta dwarf told you,” Pele signed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s brass darling. Just admit it.” Then with a glance over her shoulder added,” And you may want to call off your dogs before I knock down your pretty walls with them.”

 

\----------------------------------------------

 

Looking up while rubbing the base of her abused horn, Herah waved her other hand at the troops. “It’s fine,” she called out. A bit unhappy with herself over how whiney her voice was. It always got like that with her mother. “Go back to what you were doing.”

 

Honestly, Herah was impressed with the speed of their reaction. Herah’s mother tended to give seasoned soldiers much more pause than that. Honestly, she was  _ far _ more frightening than Corypheus.

 

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra said as she strode up, her sword, Herah noted, still in her hand. “What is going on here?”

 

Giving her mother a long suffering look, Herah stood up straight. “Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, allow me to introduce to you my mother. Pele Adaar.”

 

Cassandra’s expression went slack for a moment as she looked between Herah and her mother. Then, her jaw closed with an audible click as she bowed slightly. “Pleased to meet you, Mistress Adaar.”

 

“Hey!” Sera’s voice yelled indignantly. “Ain’t you supposed to introduce me first?”

 

\-----------------------------

 

At the revelation that the giant angry woman was Herah’s mother, Sera’s brain partially turned off. The dagger that she had procured from her lover’s belt had gone limp in her hands as she stood in mute confusion.

 

_ Mama?! _ Sera’s mind yelled.  _ What the frig… _ Then she remembered. Herah didn’t talk about herself all that much. Sera knew Herah’s family were Tal-Vashoth. That was a bit of a no brainer. But...did she have parents? Well, of course she had parents. But what kind? Brothers? Sisters? Were they close? Were they arsehats like Lasy Emmald? Well, clearly, Herah’s mother cared enough to come all the way out here….

 

“Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, allow me to introduce to you my mother. Pele Adaar,” Herah was saying, as Sera’s mind caught up with reality.

 

_ Wait a frig… _

 

“Hey!” Sera yelled, her hands on her hips as she stared up at the two….huge… quanari….women….  _ Get ahold of yourself, woman _ , Sera shook herself. “Ain't you supposed to introduce me first?”

 

\----------------------------------

 

Amused, Pele looked down at the elf, and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Herah,” she agreed. “Do introduce me to your...honey.”

 

Blushing deeply, Herah moved to stand protectively next to the girl, placing a protective arm of her shoulder.

 

“Mama,” Herah swallowed as she glanced down at the elf. When she looked back up, however, Pele saw her daughter’s eyes clear as she straightened her shoulders, drawing the girl in close to her. “Mama, this is Sera. She is my Kadan.”

 

Silent for a moment, Pele narrowed her eyes, and frowned, ever so slightly. Not that she was upset at all, she simply enjoyed making her daughter squirm.

 

As the moment stretched, Herah, indeed, began to fidget slightly. Her eyes kept glancing down to Sera, then back up to Pele. Her feet shuffled a littler. She even seemed to pull Sera slightly in between Pele and herself.

 

Finally. A crow cawed.

 

\--------------------------------

 

When her mother demanded to be introduced to her ‘honey’, Herah swallowed hard, even as she felt herself blush. She wasn’t ashamed by her relationship, not in anyway. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right as she she was with Sera.

 

_ If only Mama wasn’t so damn scary….. _ Herah’s mind grumbled.

 

Then she glanced down at her lover. And Sera looked back at her. And once again, Herah was lost and drew strength from those eyes.

 

Standing up and pulling Sera closer to her, Herah cleared her throat. “Mama, this is Sera. She is my Kadan.”

 

For a moment, her mother said nothing, just staring at the pair. Then, her mother’s eyes narrowed, a small frown creasing her brow. Then...nothing. Her mother just...stared.

 

Herah couldn’t help but glance down at Sera, who kept looking back and forth between Herah and her mother, a look of confusion on her delicate face.

Then...after a longer moment, Herah slowly shifted her body every so slightly. Moving Sera a little more in front of her. More...between Herah and her mother.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

At first Sera grinned when Herah had introduced her. Herah had even told her mother that Sera was her Kadan! Whatever that was!

 

Then her mother just frowned slightly while staring at them. It was a little weird. And more than a little unsettling.

 

Like….a lot unsettling.

 

Confused, unsure of what was going on, Sera glanced up at Herah, only for her lover to glance back down, seemingly concerned.

 

Then, they waited a bit longer. Still creepy. Then... _ Wait...Is...is she hiding behind me?! _ Sera looked back at Herah, incredulously.

 

Then the crow cawed.

 

\--------------------------------

“Andraste!” Herah Yelled in surprise as a wave of magic leapt from her hand as it thrust toward the tree the bird cawed from. The magic crackled around the tree and coalesced as lightning struck the tree several times, blasting it first, in half then splintering what was left, before the branches fell to the ground, on fire.

 

The crow, flapped away, seemingly unimpressed.

 

\------------------------------

 

When Herah jumped, Pele saw the flash of Herah’s magic.  _ Fool girl _ Pele admonished her daughter silently.  _ Still jumping straight to the lightning! _

 

As the bolts of electric power shattered the tree about the courtyard, Pele sighed, and shook her head. “You missed,” she said simply, casually pointing to the bird as it flew away.

 

Herah, for her part, stood stock still. Her arm was still outstretched, but her eyes were closed tightly, a deep blush rising on her cheeks.

 

With an exaggerated sigh, Pele stepped forward and placed a hand gently on Sera’s small shoulder. “I am most happy to meet you, young Sera. You must be a woman of strong pity to stay with my daughter so.”

 

Pele glanced up at Herah, who, finally, had dropped her arm, and her head.

 

Then, pulling Sera gently away from Herah, Pele smiled. “How about you show me the tavern, and I can tell you all about how long it took before Herah was able to sleep by herself….

 

“Oh yeah!” Sera grinned up at Pele. “She don’t say anything about herself. Always pryin’ into other people’s mush though.”

 

“Mm,” Pele nodded as they left Herah standing limply in the courtyard. “Well, this one time, when she was seven, she came running into my tent because she had-”

 

“MOTHER!”

 

\---------------------------------

 

Moving into a short half jog, Herah caught up to her mother and Sera before they got to the tavern. Desperation to cut off childhood trauma trumps current embarrassment every time.

 

“Mother!” Herah yelled, her hand reaching out desperately. “Don’t you dare!”

 

Pausing, Herah’s mother turned her head slightly to regard her. “Herah, I raised you with more manners than to interrupt when somebody is speaking.”

 

“Yes, Mama,” Herah frowned unable to go against her mother’s wishes. Even if she was the Herald of Andraste.

 

“Boss?” The door to the tavern opened as the huge form of the Iron Bull strode out of the building. He was in his leather harness, stripped pants and soft leather boots as always, though now he had his axe held lightly in one hand. “I heard something was going down….”

 

And that’s when everything went to hell.

 

\------------------------------   
  


Thanking the serving woman, Bull picked up his axe from the corner as he stood. Glancing over at Krem, he nodded his head at the door.

 

With a sigh, Krem set his mug down on the barrel next to his chair, replacing it in his hand with his sheathed longsword and falling into step behind Bull.

 

For his part, Bull wasn’t particularly concerned. He had heard the bellowing female voice echoing the Inquisitor’s name, but other than a rather impressive ability to project her voice, the individual just wanted some attention from the, probable, most famous person in Thedas, at the moment.  _ Good diaphragm support,  _ he thought.

 

But then the serving woman had come to him. She told Bull how the Inquisitor was accosted by a female quanari. That part had concerned him enough to get up. The last thing he needed was some Tal-Vashoth getting all handsy. Or, worse yet, somebody from Par Vollen seeking to send a message after the ‘incident’ with the dreadnought. 

 

Although, apparently, whomever the woman was, she had pulled on the Inquisitor’s horn. Which meant, most likely, she had been pounded into paste by now. One thing that one should never, ever do, is pull on a qunari’s horn. It followed the same logic as spitting into the wind. Just, don’t.

 

“MOTHER!” he heard the Inquisitor yell.  _ Mother? _ He thought, sharing a look with Krem.  _ This ought to be good. _

 

“Boss?” Bull said, opening the door. “I heard something was going down…”

 

Then he was face to face with a qunari woman. 

 

She was tall, even for female qunari. Tall enough to look him directly in the eyes. Well, eye. And her horns were clipped, not that was terribly uncommon for tal-vashoth. But it was the scars that truly drew his attention

 

His eye widened as he looked at her, recognizing the scarring of the woman’s face. Bull’s gaze then dropped to the woman’s wrists. One of her arms was wrapped around Sera’s shoulders, in a warm embrace that Sera seemed to be pleased about.

 

The woman’s wrists had the wide thick scarring that came only from shackles worn for a very long time.

 

At the moment Bull saw her, the woman had her head turned back to look over her shoulder at the Inquisitor. Who, he noted in some small part of his mind, looked amazingly embarrassed. 

 

And then the woman’s head turned abruptly back forward when he spoke one word. “Saarebas…”

 

Then everything went to hell.

 

\--------------------------

 

Pele had been looking over her shoulder when the male qunari had come out of the tavern door. He had spoken to her daughter, which, in and of itself, did not truly draw her attention. Not like the word he spoke.

 

“Saarebas…”

 

At the name, Pele’s head snapped back around, her eyes wide. The male, no... _ this  _ male! She knew him, she had seen him! She knew who he was! 

 

Fear welled up within her. A pure, undiluted terror, as her mind was drawn back to her previous life. To her life before she was free.

 

_ Herah! _

 

Then came the rage. Never! She would Never submit! She would fight! She would destroy! She would die before he touched her precious daughter! Pele’s husband children were the only brightness in her life, and he would not take them!

 

\-----------------------------

 

As Bull came out of the tavern her paused and looked at Herah’s mother, and his eye went wide.  _ It’s kinda funny _ , Sera thought.  _ Missing the eye, but the eyebrow moves anyway… _

 

“Saarebas…” Bull muttered as he stared at Pele.

 

Then Sera felt the woman tense next to her, making her glance up at the woman in confusion.

 

Pele stood, her face a mask of pure terror. Her eyes were so wide Sera could see the whites all the way around Pele’s irises as the woman took a half step back.

 

Then a look of pure rage washed over the woman, as Pele grabbed Sera’s shoulder tightly and half pushed, half through the elf into Herah’s arms as she moved forward at Bull.

 

\----------------------------

 

Herah’s mother was never accused with over sharing her emotions. In fact, for a lot of Herah’s young life she had doubts as to whether or not she even possessed any.

 

That was, of course, the kind of thing children often thought of their parents. And, like nearly every other child, they are wrong.

 

Herah knew her mother had lived a harsh and terrible life before being freed from her slavery. She knew that her mother had been Saarebas. She saw the scars, and heard the night terrors they caused at times.

 

But her mother was warm, kind and loving. She was easily the greatest, most patient mother a girl could hope for. 

 

However...her mother was not always the best at expressing her emotions. Her face was always stoic. Angry, in pain, or sad. Herah’s mother almost never showed it. Sure, maybe a crinkle around the eye. Maybe the tiniest hint of a frown. The, ever so slightly, tug at the corners of her mouth.

 

Except for now. 

 

Herah could see the sheer terror that rolled across her mother’s face when she saw Bull. Then it was replaced almost immediately with a fury Herah had never seen in her mother before.

 

But, before Herah could move or speak, her mother lunged, throwing Sera back, into Herah’s arms as she struck.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

Pele’s head snapped forward, catching the man in the face. There was a satisfying crunch as Pele felt her forehead splash with hot blood as the man stumbled back into the small human man behind him.

 

“Barator vas pen aleen!” Pele half yell and half snarled as her magic began to swirl about her, the heat of her flames growing. “Ben-Hassrath forl danure!”

 

Then, from the side, human, woman, sword and shield. 

 

\------------------

 

“Wait! Bull!” Cassandra called, stepping forward, forgetting her weapons were still gripped in her hands.

 

Then, the Inquisitor’s mother made a small gesture and the ground beneath her feet took on some sort of oily sheen. The next thing Cassandra knew, her feet were in the air above her head and she landed heavily onto her shoulders.

 

\-----------------------

 

With a half turn Pele saw another human woman. Dark skinned, dressed Olresian. Mage. The woman’s magic was weaving a spell. Cold. Meant to freeze her in place.

 

\-------------------

 

When Vivienne had heard the yelling in the courtyard earlier, she had stepped out to see the spectacle, and was rather entertained by the goings on. And now, however, the qunari woman was assaulting members of the Inquisition, and that was not a thing that could be tolerated.

 

With a sigh, Vivienne drew in her magic and spun it together into her trademark freezing spell.  _ Better make it on the stronger side,  _ she mused.  _ Qunari tend to rather strong…. _

 

Then with a casual out thrusting of her hand, Vivienne let fly her icey bolt, watching expectantly, for her target to become rooted in place. She even had a quip in mind.

 

Except, her spell was countered.

 

The qunari half turned and reached back, a ball of fire appearing in her hand. With an underhanded throw, the fireball flew and intercepted the ice bolt halfway between the pair of mages, going up in a cloud of steam.

 

“Countered  _ my _ magic?” Vivienne scowled in irritation, but only for a moment as she realized her spell had  _ not _ , in fact been countered. It had been overpowered.

 

Vivienne cried out as the flame struck the stone railing that ran around the balcony on which she stood, the heat forcing her to duck back behind the balcony doors.

 

\-----------------------------------------

_ Another _ human? Male this time. Longsword. Heavy armor… Grey Warden? Why would one of them…? Doesn’t matter, not right now.

 

\-----------------------------------

  
  


Like the crowd that had begun to gather, Blackwall was curious enough to approach as well. But when the woman lashed out at the Iron Bull, he knew he would have to help subdue her. Gently, of course. She was the Inquisitor’s mother after all….

 

When she had half turned away and threw the fire at Vivienne, Blackwall saw his chance and moved in to take Pele from behind, pinning her arms to her sides.

 

Or...so was his plan.

 

Instead, Pele continued her turn, her leg lashing out. With a surprised grunt, Blackwall found himself in the air, then hitting the ground in a roll and coming to stop in a heap next to a wooden cart.

 

Stunned, Blackwall looked down at where the Inquisitor’s mother had hit him and grunted in surprise at the fair sized dent in his chest plate.

 

That’s when the bag of turnips from the cart fell, pouring the vegetables into his lap.

 

\-----------------------

 

“Wait!” Herah yelled. “Stop! Put your swords down!”

 

But they would never comply. They were templars. Two of them. The one in back, mace and shield. Not skilled enough for a blade. Still, Templar. Moving to cancel.

 

One in front. Blade. No shield, light armor. Underestimating her.

 

\----------------------

 

Baroon  hefted his mace as the qunari woman threw fire at the castle. And with a deep inhale he looked over at his friend, Larry, and nodded. They would take care of this errant mage! Then the Inquisitor would invite them to her inner circle!

 

Then, moving quickly, Baroon slammed his mace into his shield, his power pulsing out of him in a wave, suppressing any magic the mongrel mage would try to cast!

 

\-------------------------

 

After sharing a nod with Baroon, Larry drew his short sword and advanced on the qunari. His Templar abilities might not have the same area of effect that Baroon’s had, but when it came to personal defense, no magic could touch him!

 

And now, he had a good reason to stab someone. He liked doing that. He was a little surprised Baroon wanted to stab the qunari as well. Normally Baroon berated him for stabbing. Especially when he stabbed those useless knife-ears. Maybe he could stab the little blonde one?

 

\-------------------

 

When Pele turned to the Templars, it wasn’t her magic she used. Instead, her hands flashed to the bandoleer over her chest, and grabbing a pair of daggers, she let them fly. And sinking them hilt deep in the rear Templar’s legs.

 

\-----------------------

“AAAAAAHHHH!” Baroon screamed as he stared down at the knife embedded in his right leg.

 

Then, Baroon looked at the blade sticking out of his left leg. “WWWWHHHHYYYYY???!”

 

Baroon, then fell down and cried.

 

\-----------------------

 

The rear Templar down, Pele drew her short sword as the other Templar swung his sword down, catching his blade and turning it to the left. Then she punched him, her fist smashing into the man’s forehead and dropping him like a pole axed cow.

 

\---------------------

_ Stab, stab, stabby stab sta….. _ Larry thought. Then he was unconscious.

 

\-----------------------

 

“Mother! Mama!” Herah yelled, stepping in front of Pele, her arms outstretched. “Please!”

 

“He..Herah!” Pele gasped, coming back to herself and slowly looking around before grabbing the front of Herah’s tunic “I..where...Hearah! That qunari! He’s Ben-Hassrath! We have to run! Please! I..I can’t…”

 

“I know, Mama,” Herah’s hands gripped her mother’s forearms, pulling her closer. “I know. But he left the Qun Mama, he left them like you did. He left them for us, for the Inquisition and his people.”

 

“What?” Pele gasped, her head still swimming as she felt her legs go weak, dropping her to the ground. “I can’t...I can’t go back….”

 

Then, Sera stepped in. Her arms wrapped around themselves around the elder qunari, hugging her tightly. “Shh...it’s okay...we’re here. Me and Herah. We won’t let anybody have you, will we love?”

 

Herah’s mother was the strongest person she had ever known. And now...this...She had no frame of reference. She had no idea. Until Sera stepped in. Her Sera knew what to do.

 

“Mama, I’m here,” Herah whispered as she knelt as well, wrapping her arms around both of the greatest women of her life. “Sera and me, we will always be here.”

 

For a short time the courtyard of Skyhold was quiet as Pele’s shaking slowly faded, as her tears slowed to sniffles.

 

“ _ Sera and I _ ,” a quiet voice said from inside the elf and quanari’s arms. “I taught you better than that. It’s  _ Sera and I…. _ ”

 

Blinking, Herah and Sera’s eyes met before devolving into a fit of giggles. Herah knew her mother would be alright.


	2. The 'Incident'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A leisurely day of picking elfroot goes a little...wrong. Sera, wrong.

“Hey...Inky….”

 

Leaning over the railing, Herah stretched out her fingers. She could almost reach that damned eflroot… “What…”she gasped out.

 

“Did I tell you that you have an amazing ass?” Sera giggled as she caught her bottom lip in her teeth for a moment. “Like, seriously. Woof.”

 

“What…?” Herah shifted her hips as she leaned even farther. Under her weight, she could even feel the railing creaking. It was probably not meant to have a qunari mage bent nearly in half over it while trying to collect a weed. Because she wanted to make lyrium potions taste less like ass.

 

With a grin, Sera slowly walked up behind her lover. She let her eyes travel over the Great Inquisitor's backside before a dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. 

 

Had anybody else in the party been paying attention, maybe they would have noticed. They may have said something. They probably would even try to stop the elf girl. 

 

Luckily, they weren’t. They didn’t. They were silent. And she wasn’t stopped.

 

There was a short whistle as Sera’s hand swung out then snapped back down with the force only a skilled archer, fluent in female ass slapping could generate.

 

There was a loud *smack*. Loud enough that it startled a couple of birds out of a nearby tree. It was loud enough to draw the attention of the Inquisition forces camped nearby, turning heads sharply.

 

To Herah, however, it was unexpected. 

 

Jerking forward in shock, pain and  _ maybe _ a little touch on pleasure.  _ Maybe.  _ Herah let out a loud, undignified squeak. 

 

The squeaky probably would have been embarrassing, except the sudden shifting of weight on the already weak rail was enough for it to throw up its metaphorical hands and surrender with a loud *crack*.

 

Herah had just enough time to blink and say the words,” Oh...shit…” Before the rail gave way, dumping her forward, and over the edge of the small cliff.

 

Landing face first in the rough dirt, her body kept moving, rolling her over the next edge. This time, landing right shoulder side into a boulder, and sliding down along it.

 

Next, Herah spun fully around, this time landing feet first on another rock. Unfortunately, it was with enough force to roll her ankle to the side with a sickening pop. 

 

Naturally, her legs gave way as she landed, again, face first into the bottom of the cliff, her limbs spread wide.  

 

At least this time, it was in soft loam earth. And a bed of elfroot.

 

\----------------------------------

 

“And then my lover, and the saviour of the world, tumbled down a cliff to her gruesome death.” Was not particularly a sentence Sera ever expected to be one she could say. 

 

She stood with her hand at the end of the swinging motion that had started the entire situation. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she slowly, with almost creaking movement, turned to look behind her.

 

Cassandra was half standing, her own eyes wide and her mouth was open.

 

Dorian stood to one side, blinking furiously in confusion.

 

Varric’s mouth moved wordlessly as a wineskin slid slowly out of his hands.

 

Cole added some twigs to the fire.

 

“I’m okay….” a muffled half groan echoed up from the cliff bottom.

 

“Uhh….” Sera smiled painfully. “Oops?”

 

\---------------------------------

 

“Seriously, Inquisitor, how did you manage to cut your foot with the handle side of your knife?” Cassandra shook her head with a frown.

 

“Oh, shut up and help me find the other half of my horn,” Herah growled out as she hobbled around the clearing.

 

“Boss, why don’t you sit down? I can carry you back up to the camp,” Bull almost pleaded. “Your tracking blood all over the place and that shitty splint isn’t going to help your ankle.”

 

“If you lost half your right horn, what would you do?” Herah rounded on the male qunari. He right eye was red with a burst vessel. They all were seasoned combat veterans, so they knew that it wasn’t really that serious, but it  _ looked _ creepy. Especially on an almost seven foot tall pissed off qunari.

 

Under that gaze, Bull shifted uncomfortably. “I would sit quietly in camp, with a mug of mulled wine as my ankle and dull-knife-cut got healed?”

 

“You are full of it, Chief” Crem chuckled as he parted a bush. “Oh hey! Found it!”

 

“Thank the maker for small favors,” Herah muttered as she began to limp her way over. 

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Cassandra said, stepping in front of Herah. “We found it. Now you are going to be a good Inquisitor and let us get you back up to camp.”

 

For a moment Herah stood tall over the human woman and glared down at her. Her lip lifted slightly in a silent snarl.

 

Cassandra, however, was not impressed.

 

Raising one eyebrow, Cassandra  reached out one booted foot and lightly tapped Hera’s ankle. Whereupon the great qunari mage crumpled like a poleaxed goat. 

 

“I hate you,” Herah ground out.

 

“I’ll take that to mean I am doing my job properly, then,” Cassandra smirked sadistically.

 

\------------------------------------------------- 

 

“So…” Dorian looked up from his dinner to tilt his head slightly at Herah. “Why are you doing that with your head?”

 

Looking up darkly from her own bowl, Herah slowly finished chewing and swallowing. “I’m lopsided.”

 

It actually took Dorian a moment to process what Herah had said. “Wait...what?”

 

With a disgusted snort, Herah almost threw her spoon into her bowl before dropping it to the ground in front of her. 

 

She then consciously tilted her head so the the side with the broken horn aimed to the ground. Then, Herah pointed at the ragged end, almost violently. “See!” she growled. “This side is missing. So that this side,” she pointed at the intact horn. “This side is weirdly heavier.”

 

Dropping his closed fist onto his knee, Dorian nodded. “I get it.”

 

“Well, I’m  _ thrilled _ you understand,” Herah grabbed up her bowl and began eating again. She seemed to take satisfaction in ripping chunks out of the small tough loaf of travel bread she had.

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

Limping only slightly, Herah glared around at the surrounding fields of the Hinterlands. It was obnoxiously sunny and warm. Birds chirped in trees along the road as the wind brought up the smells of honeysuckle and rosemary.

 

Herah spat.

 

“Why don’t you ride in one of the wagons, Boss?” Bull asked as he walked next to her. They were walking much slower than they normally would, because of Herah’s injuries. But they still passed many of the Inquisition people. They  _ were  _ qunari after all. Their strides carried them farther than the ‘wee folk’ as Herah’s mother liked to refer to non qunari peoples.

 

“I don’t want to,” Herah said quietly.

 

“It doesn't look that bad, you know,” Bull said with a sage nod. “Kinda gives you a fearsome “I’ve seen some shit’ kinda vibe.”

 

“Bull….” Herah began, her voice took on a kind of strained irritation. “Do you have any idea how much gold Is on that horn?”

 

“Uh...no?” Bull looked at her perplexed.

 

“That is enough gold to pay for the chargers for three months,” Herah ground out. “The ruby, sapphire and emerald,  _ each _ could pay for a week.”

 

“That’s a lot of cash to have on your head,” Bull blinked a moment before frowning. “Wait...we didn’t find the ruby.”

 

“Oh,  _ I know _ ,” Herah huffed. “I know.”

 

\-----------------------------------

 

“Think you can fix it?” Varric leaned out of the wagon he was riding is. 

 

“Which part?” Herah glanced at the dwarf. “My pride, my ankle….”

 

“I meant the hor-”

 

“ _ I know what you meant _ !” Herah snapped. She then stared hateful straight ahead.

 

Varric smirked at her for a moment before she sniffed and looked away, into a nearby field. “Sorry.”

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Varric chuckled. “But can you fix it?”

 

“Not...no. Not really,” Herah sighed, glancing over at the dwarf. It was an odd feeling, being eye level with the man. “It's….Andraste’s tits….It isn’t like deer antlers, were they grow back. The horn is….”

 

Pausing for another moment, Herah placed her hand on her chin as she thought about the right way to explain it.

 

“The irritating part, is that I can’t think of anyway to explain it, without comparing it to animals like cows of goats,” Herah chuckled ruefully. “Doesn’t quite capture the same feeling.”

 

“Well, how about dragons then?” Varric suggested. “Qunari seem to have a tie to ‘em.”

 

“Ha!” Herah barked a laugh. “Works for me!”

 

Herah grabbed the side of the wagon and hopped slightly, onto the wagon’s sideboard. She turned a small smile to Varric. “Walking and talking is a pain.”

 

“Yeah, walking is, in and of itself, a pain,” Varric agreed. “It’s why I ride in one of these when I can.”

 

“Alright,” Herah squared her shoulders. “Like I said, it isn’t like deer antlers. They don’t regrow like that. They are like Dragon horns.”

 

“Or cow, or goat,” Varric added.

 

“That was unnecessary, dwarf.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“They are like  _ dragon _ horns. The outer shell,” Herah tapped on the  upper half of her horn, the part that was still attached to her head. “It’s hard, and kinda fibrous. Kinda reminds me of a really tough ass claw.”

 

“So it’s made of fingernail?”

 

Herah stared for a moment. “Do you want me to tell you?”

 

Holding up his hands, Varric sat back. “By all means.”

 

“It’s like a coating. There is a  core,” Herah gestured at the small rag tied around the jagged edge of the break. “I think it’s kinda like if you rip your fingernail too far and it bleeds? Sort of like that.”

 

“Ah!” Varric placed a hand on the side of his head and winced. “That sounds horrible!”

 

“It’s not fun,” Herah agreed. “I’ve seen one of the guys in my old company get a chunk ripped out of the outer part of his horn. But the core part was only nicked. So mother packed the wound with honey, to keep the wound dry, and bandaged it up. A few months later it managed to kinda recover. Always had that weird dimple bit, but it healed.”

 

“Not going to work in this case, huh?” Varric gave Herah a sympathetic smile.

 

“Nope,” she sighed. “The core got ripped right through. When that kind of damage is done, it’s fucked.”

 

“Magic?” Varric suggested.

 

“Mmm,” Herah rolled the idea in her head for a moment. “Maybe. Nothing I know. I asked Dorian about it. He said he knew of blood magic that can regrow fingers and such, but it started to drift into uncomfortable territory.”

 

“Ouch.” 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Going to talk to her?”

 

Herah let out a deep sigh and glanced toward the back of the small caravan.

 

“Yeah.”

 

\------------------------------------

 

Sera felt like utter shit.

 

Just a pile of pure garbage.

 

She  _ hated _ feeling this way. It was weird.

 

She didn’t hang around with anybody long enough for something like this to come up. She never cared about anybody enough to get ripped up. 

 

Sure, she felt bad about some of her pranks when they went wobbley, but never  _ this _ bad.

 

Why was she so upset?   
  


Was it because Herah was angry at her?

 

Not really. Herah was plenty pissed, yeah. But she didn’t yell at Sera. She just….frowned. Then looked away.

 

Sera  _ hated _ it.

 

Normally avoiding the person was easy. She would just keep to the otherside of camp or sumthin. Easy Peasy. After a while the person would calm down. Or they wouldn’t. If not, fuck ‘em.

 

But Herah was the Inquisitor! 

 

Meant Sera couldn’t just bugger off. 

 

Well. She could. But...she didn’t  _ want _ to.

 

She wanted to say, “Sorry I ‘bout killed you by playing ‘slap-ass’! Hope you aren’t too mad!”

 

But she couldn’t. Not only because it sounded stupid, but she was afraid. 

 

Why was she friggin’ afraid? She shouldn’t be afraid. She was just having a romp. It wasn’t like it was serious.

 

But...maybe it was?

 

Frig.

 

It totally was. It was getting serious. She was in….

 

She lo-

 

Lov-

 

She  _ really _ liked Herah.

 

What if Herah didn’t want to be with her now? It would be kinda weird if she did, really. It wasn’t often you get shoved off a cliff by your girlfriend.

 

Frig.

 

How was she going to even try to talk to Herah….

 

“Hey.”

 

Shit.

 

“Oh…” Sera looked up at her qunari, and answered listlessly “Hey.”

 

“Doing okay?” Herah asked calmly.

 

“Me?” Sera blinked. “Yeh...fine I spose. You? Frig…” She cursed under her breath.  _ Sure Sera, just peachy. Thanks for cracking off a chunk of my friggin head! _

 

Instead, Herah laughed quietly. “Well, I’ve had better days. But I suppose It could be raining. Or Corypheus could be...well, doing anything I guess.”

 

The corner of Sera’s mouth twitched for a moment before her face clouded over and she dropped her gaze to the ground in front of her. “Listen, I…..”

 

“I’m a bit put out,” Hera interrupted. There was a hard edge to her voice  that forced Sera to look up. Hera’s face was like a thunder cloud as she stared straight ahead.

 

“ A bit...wot?” Sera blinked, herself frowning.

 

“I am not happy, Sera,” Hera nodded slightly as she spoke. “Been kinda pissy the last couple days.”

 

“That’s a way to say it, I guess,” Sera shivered to herself slightly. This was probably it. She had pushed that little bit too far. She always did. Then she would go. But...but now she didn’t  _ want _ to go. 

 

“Know why?”

 

“Cause I tried to kill you and broke off your horn, would be my guess,” Sera spat biterly.

 

“Because nobody has been calling me ‘Inky’, or slipping into my bedroll in the middle of the night for an impromptu roll,” Herah sighed. “Or slapping me on my ass. Which, I have been told, is quite amazing.”

 

Despite herself, Sera let out a little giggle. “It is that, yeah.”

 

“Pissed about the horn though.”

 

Sera looked at her feet again. “I...I know…”

 

“Mmm,” Herah grabbed the elf roughly by the shoulder and picked her bodily off the ground. Then, turning, Herah strode quickly into a small cropping of trees before shoving Sera up against the trunk of one them.

 

“Ow! Frig...That hurt…” Sera cursed before looking up at Herah’s face. It was a mask of anger. The qunari’s lips were twisted up in a snarl, her teeth bared. Her eyes flashed with electricity. Literally. Sera could feel the power for a moment. She then closed her eyes, wincing back. Feeling a little bit of fear.

 

The she was wrapped in Herah’s big arms. They held her gently, but tightly as her qunari rocked back and forth. 

 

“Sera,” Herah sighed. “I’m sorry. That was probably a bit much. The horn is important to me. But you are by far more important. Hell, you can have them both if you really want. We could probably sell them and retire.”

 

Blinking, Sera could only really see her favorite sight. The valley of two  _ gigantic _ grey breasts. “That why you put all that gold on ‘em?” she ventured quietly.

 

“Yeah, actually,” Herah chuckled. “I figured I would give them to the first elf that gave me the best shag of my life.”

 

“Bet you say that to all the Jennies,” Sera giggled.

 

“Only the cute ones.”

 

“So...when we get back home, you wanna see if Dagna can think up some sort of doohicky to put it back on?” Sera suggested as she relaxed into Herah’s cleavage. 

 

“Sounds like a good idea, actually,” Herah breathed contentedly. Then she felt a the little elf hand. “Sera?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Wanna Shag?”

 

“Woof.”


End file.
